


Come Dance with Me

by spikesgirl58



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 18:16:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3218663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a Section 7 prompt - I took a shortcut.</p><p>Napoleon should know better than to trust a THRUSH map.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Dance with Me

“Admit it.  You are lost.”  Illya was careful to keep his tone neutral. 

“I’m not lost.  According to the map, I took a shortcut.  It just didn’t lead to where I thought it would.” 

“Usually you have to know where you are going first in order to take full advantage of a short cut.”

“Okay, so it isn’t a very good short cut, but it is a THRUSH map, after all, and predisposed to work against us.” Napoleon paused to study the map.  “Okay, so we are headed north.”

“Then it’s the first time I’ve seen the sun set in the east.”

“What?”  Napoleon looked up and sighed dejected.  “All right, I concede.  We are lost.  Now what?”

“Well, the rational man would stop and set up camp while there is still light.”

“Rational men don’t have a satrapy of annoyed THRUSH agents on their heels.”

“True, but I think we lost them when we hit that series of switchbacks.  For a long time, we were trailing them.”

“Really?”  Napoleon scraped up a small smile.  “At least I did something right on this mission.”

“None of what happened was your fault or mine.  There are just some missions that are doomed to fail from the gate.  This was one such affair.”  Illya dropped the pack he’d liberated after they’d escaped their cell.  Napoleon has also grabbed a backpack, one that thankfully had a small pup tent attached to it.  “This looks like a good place to stop.”  Illya paused.  “Although we’re in a fairy ring.  My grandmother told me that they might be the end of you in a dozen horrible ways if you weren’t careful.  It’s very Russian.”

“A fairy ring?  What did they pump you full of back there, _tovarisch_?”

“Technically it’s a natural occurring ring of mushroom or plant growth in the shape of a circle or even an arc.  They are the result of a particular pattern of mycelium growth. Legend has it that they are created anywhere fairies dance.  Do you see it now?”

Napoleon nodded as he tucked the map away.  “I guess I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“At least we didn’t kick any over.  That is a sure fire way to anger the fairies and they would make you dance around the ring until you were dead.  It actually makes sense because many of the mushrooms that grow in fairy rings are poisonous and scary stories help keep the children at bay.”

“Or for kids like you, it draws them in.”

“That, as well.”  Illya grinned and pointed to a small outcrop of trees.  “Over there would probably be our best bet.”

“Not here?”  The ground was soft and moss covered. 

“Too exposed and the trees will not only provide a windbreak, but also give us a degree of protection.  You did take the wilderness survival course, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but…” Napoleon shrugged as he let the sentence trail off and Illya clapped him on the shoulder. 

“I understand. You set up the tent and I will see about getting us something to eat.”

 

                                                                                ****

Napoleon wasn’t sure what woke him.  At first he thought it might have been something he’d eaten, but he trusted Illya’s survival skills.  Besides, the man was sound asleep, so obviously he wasn’t having stomach issues.

The pup tent was tiny, barely big enough for one person, much less two, but they managed.  They were UNCLE agents.  They always managed.  They squeezed and twisted and eventually found a position they could both tolerate.  Sleep had come fast to both of them.  Between their capture and their escape, there hadn’t been much opportunity to rest.

The scent of pine somehow managed to permeate the canvas of the tent and the smell reminded Napoleon of more carefree times, easier times.

The wind was blowing overhead, causing the branches and leaves to whisper secrets to each other.  He smiled at the mental image of a grove of tree huddled together like a group of gossiping people.  Then Napoleon realized there was another sound, almost ethereal floating on the breeze.

With infinite care, he eased up the zipper on the flap of the tent just a scant inch and peeked out.  What he saw made his jaw drop.  There were creatures, small, and translucent, moving to the rhythm of the music.  They spun around, their joyful laughter a mere tinkling sound of the wind.   Although he couldn’t tell exactly what they were, the word ‘fairy’ popped into his head.  He didn’t dare move, much less try to wake his partner or draw attention to their presence.

As Napoleon and Illya had taken care to pull leaves and other detritus over the tent, he knew they were invisible to the little beings and he intended to keep it that way.  Yet he watched them prance, a desire to join them practically overtook him.  The music was intoxicating and alluring. 

Then suddenly they were gone in a flash of light.  At first Napoleon had thought there had been a bomb, but there had been no explosion.  Then he saw them and understood.  Not a bomb, a flashlight.

“Where the hell are they?”  That was the voice of the THRUSH leader and he did not sound happy.   Of course, he hadn’t sounded any happier beating Napoleon and Illya.

“Nearby and up, according to the tracker.”  His minion had a whiney edge to his voice.  The other three THRUSH looked exhausted and ready to drop.  Napoleon knew how they felt and they hadn’t been guests of THRUSH for three long days and three even longer nights.

Damn, one of the backpacks must have been bugged.  Thankfully, the packs were well away from the tent and tucked up in a tree.  Even Napoleon knew that it wasn’t safe to keep anything that held food close by in the forest, even when the food was long gone.

“Up?”  The THRUSH leader walked into the center of the ring, kicking mushrooms out of his way as he stormed first this way or that.  His flashlight illuminated the tree tops.   “What the hell are they doing in trees?”  He stopped just a few feet from the tent and Napoleon held his breath.  If they were spotted now, they would be sitting ducks. 

His minions followed, trampling the mushrooms and lush grass that created the ring.  Out of the corner of his eye, Napoleon saw the beings, the fairies, slowly emerging from their hiding places.  Part of him wanted to shout a warning to them, but, another, more cautious part, urged him to stay still and hidden.  Even from here, he could see the anger on their faces.

The music started again and the fairies poured forth now, the air thick with them.  The THRUSH group reacted as one, jumping and waving their weapons defensively. The beating of their wings nearly drowned out the music as the fairies circled each THRUSH member.

“What the hell are those?”  The leader struck out, but his hands met with nothing.  The fairies were too fast for that.  They easily evaded him.

“What do you want?” Another tried to wave them off, but the fairies encircled his head, like glowing gnats.  “Leave me alone.”

“Join us.”  The voice was thin and reedy.  “Dance with us, Destroyers of the Ring.”

“Get off.  We’re…”  The man choked and coughed as he got a mouthful of fairy.  He fell to his knees and retched.

“Dance with us.”  It wasn’t an invitation.  Now it was a command.

As if controlled by invisible strings, the standing men started to jerk and stagger, their steps forced and unwilling.

“No!”  The THRUSH leader was fighting, his pistol out, but weapons were useless.  Instead, his feet sped up, tripping over the fallen man.  “Idiot!  Get up!”

“I can’t,” he whined as his hands gathered together the crushed remains of a mushroom.

“Eat!”  The voice commanded. 

“No!” 

“Dance with us!  Eat with us!  Die with us!”

The more the men struggled, the less will they seemed to have.  Helpless, they all fell to the ground and began to cram their mouths with mushrooms.  They gagged and choked and still stumbled about in a circle.

Napoleon could watch no more.  He closed the zipper completely, shut his eyes and plugged his ears.  Even that wasn’t enough to keep out the screams and cries for mercy.

                                                                                ****

“Napoleon, wake up.”

Napoleon’s eyes popped open and he winced.  They felt gritty and full of sand.   He rubbed them and shifted on the thin blanket.  “Ouch.  My ground sleeping days are drawing to a close, I fear.”

“You’ll feel better once you get up and move around.  Illya unzipped the tent and slithered out.  “What the hell.  Napoleon, you have to see this.”

The night came back to Napoleon in a flash and he clawed his way free of the canvas, desperate to feel the breeze on his face.  There on the ground not far from the tent were five THRUSH, their faces in horrible twisted death masks.

Illya knelt and poked a half-consumed mushroom in one corpse’s fist.  “Amanitas."  He shook his head sadly.  "These are responsible for nearly ninety percent of deaths. Poor bastards must have gotten hungry and eaten the mushrooms.”    He pulled a backpack from one and opened it.  “They had food.  They should have stuck with it.”

Napoleon remembered the music, the fairies and the anger in their voices as their ring was destroyed.  A chill ran through him.  “Or something like that.  Let’s get out of here.”

 

 


End file.
